The Devil's Bargain
by Alice Unrequited
Summary: In the depths of the Spirit World, a terrifying bargain is struck. Three days of life for an eternity of servitude. True love's kiss will break the spell, but Lethe's curse binds hope down. Rewrite of "A Stranger's Face"
1. Prologue

_In the realm of the spirits_

_Tales are told_

_Of an ancient sorcerer_

_Older than the worlds_

_And more powerful than the skies_

_A figure of myth_

_It is said_

_That he can give a spirit_

_Corporeal form_

_To take shape in the world of the living_

_And wander free_

_But for the great gift he gives_

_The sorcerer asks a grave price_

_All memory of lives past_

_And a limited time to walk_

_Free among the living_

"_Three days are yours_

_To traverse the lands_

_But save for true love's first kiss_

_Ye must return to the spirit_

_Forever enslaved_

_To my whim"_

_Thus are the conditions of the devil's bargain._


	2. Act I: Scene 1

Some facts are irrevocable. Completely and utterly fixed in time and space. Like the discovery of the Americas.

Or Hitler.

Chihiro knew this principle very well, and it was that which she called upon to justify her abhorrence at having to spend yet another year in the only high school within a reasonable distance of her home. It wasn't that she was a bad student, or that she didn't enjoy the subject matter. Contrariwise, she was top of her class and quite dedicated in her studies. She just didn't want to be at that school.

_It's going to be another long year._ Another long year of keeping her head low and doing what she was told . It was how the system operated. Independence and thought were decimated, punished out of you until you either conformed or were expelled. She'd tried for expulsion, but with her grades, the school couldn't risk losing her. They'd lose too much funding.

But just because they couldn't expel her didn't mean that the administration couldn't make life very difficult. And so she'd decided to play their little game, pretending to be the ideal student. It worked well enough, and she was (mostly) left alone.

If only she'd had friends, someone at school to confide in, she might have been happier. But during her first weeks of school in the little town, she'd discovered that all the other children had already formed their groups and none were too keen on admitting an outsider to their ranks. After a while, she just quit trying.

Instead, she wrote letters. Long, detailed letters which never got sent because there was no way to get to the recipient. At least, not anymore. That doorway was closed, sealed off in a fixed point in time. She could never go back.

It was why she focused so much on her studies. Better to have books for company than no company at all. Her parents worried, of course, like all good parents do, but there wasn't much they could do. She was an excellent student. If Chihiro wished, she could attend almost any university in Japan. She could even go abroad if she wanted.

And did she ever want to. Ever since she realized that she wasn't going to make any proper friends in her new home, she'd harbored the desire to get out. She couldn't go back, so she'd go forward with the boldness her time in the spirit world had taught her.

Her entrance to what would be her last homeroom in senior high school was marked by its utter unremarkability. She maneuvered around two girls in the doorway who were giggling over some pop star and took her usual seat—two rows back from the front, next to the window. It was, she'd discovered, the best view in any given classroom in the tiny, sterile building. The only place with a passable view into a world made of color and life rather than white walls and bland institutional food.

Not that she ate cafeteria food.

Chihiro paid little attention to the steady stream of students filling the classroom. There were only two third year classes, and having been in school with the same group for the past seven years, she had no reason to be interested in which half of the herd she was stuck with that year.

Instead, she read. Her novel of the week was _Wuthering Heights_, which she found to be quite fascinating in spite of the pretentious prose. Occasionally she wasn't quite certain she understood what was going on, but that was a feeling which never lasted long. Her English was impeccable, unsurpassed by anyone in the school save the English instructor, and that was only by the dint of experience in favor of the instructor.

The final bell rang just as she reached the beginnings of Cathy's self-imposed illness. Marking her page with a sliver of paper, she straightened the books on her desk and looked to the front of the room, waiting for the day to begin.

Papers rustled nervously, highlighting the utter lack of an instructor. The front of the room was empty, the teacher's desk unadorned and occupied only by a large desk calendar and file rack, both staples of the school's teaching staff's supplies. Disinterested in the absence of a professor, Chihiro returned to her book.

Absorbed in Cathy's descent into madness, Chihiro didn't notice when the door to the classroom opened and two figured entered the room. The first was a tall, thin young man in an ill-fitted suit and tie. He was quite obviously the elder of the two, seeming to be in, at the least, his mid-twenties. His companion was shorter, although not by much, and seemed to be little older than sixteen.

The elder strode over to the desk with feigned confidence, trying desperately to hide his nerves behind what he thought was a stern face. It wasn't a very good stern face, though, and the members of his class weren't fooled. But it was also the first day of classes, so when he rapped his knuckles on the desk, the class settled into a sort of lull, allowing him the one chance to speak without interruption that he was likely to get that year.

"Good morning, class. I am Takahata Arashi and I will be your homeroom teacher this year. I look forward to having a well-behaved," at this he punctuated his statement with a pointed glare at the two girls who'd spent the morning blocking the entrance to the room (they were now chatting loudly in the fourth row). The two quieted, but didn't silence themselves completely. ". . . homeroom." He finished forcefully.

His attempts lacked the desired effect, but he pressed on anyway. "Now that that's settled, it is my pleasure to introduce a new student to our system, Nigihayami Kohaku. He has just moved here from Osaka. Isn't that exciting?" His voice was flat, as if Osaka were actually the most hellish of holes in all of Japan. The class responded with like enthusiasm. There was no interest in new students. They weren't important, after all. Just nuisances who took up space.

Like Chihiro.

Smiling broadly, the new student bowed to the class. "I am very pleased to be here. I hope you all will take care of me while I adjust to my new surroundings." His tone was formal and kind, but lacked any sincerity. He spoke only out of obligation.

Satisfied that the new student had fulfilled his duty in addressing the class, Takahata scanned the room, searching for an empty desk. Three rows back and one desk over from the window, he found one. "You may sit there, Nigihayami-san. Next to the young lady with the book." The word book came out as a sneer, as if he held nothing but contempt for the idea of reading instead of paying attention with great fervor to the words of the instructor.

Nigihayami took his seat quietly, all the while contemplating ways he could convince his neighbor to trade seats and allow him the pleasure of sitting nearer the world outside. She looked friendly enough, he supposed. No harm in asking, at least. Right?

None of the opening scene presented by the teacher had reached Chihiro. She was far too absorbed in the tumultuous love of Heathcliff and Cathy. It wasn't until a soft voice at her side addressed her that she returned from her reverie. Nobody ever spoke to her. Nobody.

Feigning casual, she glanced up and slightly to her right, then back at her book. Then the face registered and she double-taked, trying desperately to control her features. "Pardon?" She choked out, barely able to contain her shock.

"I asked what you're reading." He repeated, slowly. She didn't seem particularly slow, especially not reading something which appeared to be in English, but it was hard to tell these days. Autistic geniuses with severe social impediments were nearly commonplace. There was no reason for him to expect all the students in the tiny school to be average.

"_Wuthering Heights._" Chihiro declared simply, doing her best not to stare. So . . . familiar. Like waking from a fugue state to find yourself somewhere from your childhood. It was rather off-putting.

Definitely strange.

He wasn't entirely sure what to make of her. She seemed intelligent enough. _Wuthering Heights_ was a challenging read for native English speakers. To read it with English as a second language was rather impressive. Unfortunately, it hadn't seemed to be much of a conversation starter. Perhaps she just wasn't interested in the story and was only reading in order to finish the book. Some people, as he'd heard, did that sort of thing. Not finishing a book was a blow to their pride, or some other such nonsense.

He didn't buy into it for a minute, but he'd always been rather strange. At any rate, he didn't want to spend an entire year as a social pariah, so he made another attempt at striking up a conversation. "What do you think of the Lintons?" His question was ambiguous. He didn't want to give anything away. It was only common courtesy.

Chihiro wasn't sure how to react to the question. Her brain was still trying to process how inconceivably familiar the new student looked. Her mind was miles from the moors of Victorian England.

"Eh?"

Wow. Real smooth. It took her a moment, but she recovered with some modicum of grace. "Edgar's a good foil of Heathcliff, and although he's cast in the villain's role, he is clearly the more heroic and admirable of the two." Edgar was the nice guy. She liked the nice guys. Always had.

Well, for as long as she'd liked boys. She hadn't really had a preference during her days of _ewww boys have cooties._

If nothing else, she was sharp. He had to give her that. He hadn't caught on to Edgar's heroic qualities the first time he read the book. Whenever that was. He couldn't quite remember. At all.

A rapping at the front of the room caught their attention. The instructor had finally noticed he was being ignored. "You two." He barked, looking for a seating chart and finding none. "What are your names?"

Nigihayami struggled against the urge to roll his eyes. The teacher had _just_ introduced him to the class, and still couldn't remember his name. "Nigihayami Kohaku, sir." He replied curtly.

"Ogino Chihiro." She sighed. Another year, another teacher who wanted nothing more than to impose his will on the students subjected to his rule. By now she ought to be used to it, but some things she never could quite adjust to. There would be a detention now, most likely. Or something else of that nature.

"Quiet, please. You might not care what I have to say, but you shouldn't create a distraction for the other students." With that he returned to whatever ambiguous gesturing he'd been busied with before he noticed them. Not wishing to incur the wrath of the instructor, Chihiro returned to her book.

Not that she could concentrate on it. She was far too distracted. He looked so much like . . . but he couldn't be. Haku's river had been destroyed. He was forever trapped on the other side. She could only see him again if . . . well, she didn't want to think about that option. It left too many people who cared about her sad.

Nigihayami wasn't ready to end his discussion, but the teacher left him little choice. He would simply have to corner her at lunch time and continue his interrogation . . . er . . . discussion-generating questioning.


End file.
